


Paint the Town White

by foreverwonder



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst with a Happy Ending, Haikyuu!! Manga Spoilers, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Pining, Pro Volleyball Player Oikawa Tooru, Single Parent Iwaizumi, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-23
Updated: 2020-09-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:21:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26063377
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/foreverwonder/pseuds/foreverwonder
Summary: On the day of his best friend’s wedding, Oikawa Tooru had put on a big smile on his face and buried his feelings deep inside before disappearing.Eight years later, a tired professional volleyball player, he was picking up the pieces of a failed relationship when Iwaizumi Hajime turned up at his doorstep, hand in hand with a child.
Relationships: Iwaizumi Hajime/Oikawa Tooru
Comments: 19
Kudos: 95





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! I've had this story in my drafts since 2017. And now that Haikyuu has ended, I thought it would be a waste of a story to keep and decided to continue with it. I've tweaked it to suit the canonverse so slight manga spoilers ahead!

Tooru let his eyes sweep around the apartment the moment he entered.

Empty. Silent.

The place was dark and Tooru flicked the switch on, blinking rapidly when the harsh white light filled his vision. Now properly illuminated, he did another sweep around the apartment. It was neat, not a hair out of place but he could see the obvious missing things.

The lack of high-heeled shoes at the doorway.

Tooru removed his sneakers, not bothering with neatness, and stepped into the living room.

The cream cashmere throw on the couch was no longer there.

Tooru never really liked it anyway— the throw got dirty too quickly. He walked past the kitchen, eyes flitting quickly to the draining rack.

The pink (and tacky) mug he had bought for her was gone.

 _All for the better,_ he thought. After all, he only bought it because she wanted it. Upon reaching the bathroom, he gave the door a slight push, his brown eyes landing on the counter.

It was noticeably emptier with her hair products now gone.

Tooru closed the door behind him, before taking a few steps to the closed door of his bedroom. Taking in a deep breath, he reached out to push the door open.

The first thing he saw was the big closet he had bought for her, its doors left ajar to reveal its hollow insides – much like how Tooru was feeling then. He stared at it for a moment longer before walking in the room, dumping his bad on the floor and sitting gingerly at the edge of the bed, minding the slight twinge of pain from his knee.

And there he sat for a long while, eyes fixed forward towards the outside of the bedroom to the living room, his fingers entwined with one another, hanging in front of him, the small velvet blue box in his pocket weighing like lead.

.

“Oi-ka-wa!!”

Tooru winced at the sheer volume of Hanamaki’s voice, holding his phone a little further away from his ear. Despite it, he couldn’t help the small smile from appearing on his lips at the sound of his friend’s voice.

“It’s been a while, MakkI!” Tooru tried replied as enthusiastically as he could, his eyes on the ice-pack he had placed on his knee. He was currently on his bed, leaning against the headboard, with his one leg stretched forward and a hand holding the ice pack in place. The swelling had gone down, but he could still feel the pain emitting from the area.

“Damn right it’s been a while!” Hanamaki yelled, “Not since you’ve gone for your overseas matches! For a moment I thought you’ve forgotten about us!”

Tooru gave a laugh at that. “I’m a busy man, Makki,”he said, relaxing against the headboard. “I’ve only just gotten back.”

“I know. Issei’s told me. I saw the match online though. That was a nasty fall.”

The memory of his last jump serve in the match before intense pain shot up his knee made him frown. His coach’s subsequent orders to rest made his frown even deeper.

“Coach is making me rest the whole of this off-season! I’ve been barred from the gym for two months!” he whined and Hanamaki snickered.

“It’s for your own good. You never change.”

“Makki, you’re supposed to be with me!” Tooru whined and pouted when his friend let out a bark of laughter. He let his friend’s laughter die off before he spoke again. “I’m going to die of boredom. Or maybe if I’m lucky, the aliens will take me,” he sighed wistfully, earning him a snort from Hanamaki.

“I have a better plan; let’s meet up for drinks sometime. It’s been too long,” Hanamaki hummed and Tooru perked up immediately.

“Alright! Can’t wait to see you and Mattsun again!”

“And bring Chihaya with you. We need to show her your uncool side once in a while.”

At the sound of his ex-girlfriend’s name, Tooru’s smile dimmed a fraction. He swallowed, hesitating if he should tell Hanamaki that they had broken up. The weight of the ring box in his bedside drawer still weighed like a lead. He must have stayed silent for too long because Hanamaki’s tone turned concerned.

“Oikawa? What’s wrong?”

Tooru racked his brains for something to say, “Um— She— We—,” he stammered but his friend caught the message.

“I’m sorry,” he said softly. “It must’ve been hard for you. You’ve been together, what? Four years?”

“Five,” Tooru corrected him, sighing. He lifted the ice pack from his knee, now lukewarm and dripping water on his bed, before throwing it to the small basin he had brought along. “It’s fine. I should have seen it coming.”

He didn’t want to talk about it anymore and Hanamaki caught the hint. With a sigh, Hanamaki said, “Alright then. We’ll meet up for drinks very soon. I’ll let Issei know.”

“Okay, see you, Makki,” Tooru bade him goodbye before ending the call, throwing his phone onto the bed.

He was glad for Hanamaki’s phone call, which gave him respite from his thoughts. It has been three days since he had gotten back to find his girlfriend gone and Tooru had merely gone about his daily routine, trying to ignore the hole in his chest that seemed to have appeared. He hadn’t tried calling Chihaya though –hadn’t asked why she had left with a simple text message “I’ve met someone else” that she had sent moments before his flight back to Tokyo.

Was he afraid? Tooru scoffed. No way. Yet a voice at the back of his head whispered he might be afraid of the reasons she had left –that it wouldn’t be any different from all the others’ he had been with. Like never spending time with them, too focused on volleyball, that he wasn’t in love with them but was in love with—

_No._

Tooru snapped his eyes open, pushing the rest of the thoughts out of his mind.

He had sworn to forget about it, sworn to put those feelings in an iron-clad box and shove it deep into the recesses of his mind. It had been eight years since, eight years since the chime of the wedding bells imitated the sound of his heart breaking as he watched him walk away with his bride, her face glowing in happiness and her kimono not tight enough to cover the slight swell of her belly. Tooru remembered putting on the biggest and brightest grin he had in his arsenal and patted his friend in the back, making jokes and wishing the couple a blessed marriage. He could still remember the brightness of his green eyes, his lips that pulled upwards in a shy smile.

“Shit,” Tooru sighed out, pressing the palms of his hands to his eyes, willing the memory away. He shuffled to the edge of the bed, putting his leg down slowly before pushing off.

There was no point wallowing in nostalgia, Tooru decided as he picked up his wallet and phone before heading out to the supermarket.

.

The rain was relentless.

Tooru stood by his window, watching the raindrops splatter against the glass. It was raining so heavily –highly unusual during the mid-spring in Tokyo –that he couldn’t see anything except the blurry orange glow from the outside streetlamp. He brought his mug of hot chocolate to his lips and took a tentative sip just as a flash of lightning lightened the sky followed by the deep rumble of thunder.

It has been two weeks since he had come back from his game to an empty apartment. So far, Tooru had carried on as usual. Since he was under strict orders to rest, Tooru skipped his morning runs, opting to sleep in a little longer before doing chores. He would take a walk and if necessary, but groceries before night comes where he would unwittingly prepare food for two. He evaded questions from his friends, promising Hanamaki he would let him know when he would be available for drinks the following weeks and his mother’s requests of him to visit home at Miyagi and _“Bring Chihaya with you dear, when are you going to ask her to marry you?”_ He couldn’t break his mother’s heart by telling her they had broken up; she loved Chihaya and had been nudging him to pop the question for years. Instead he vaguely told her that Chihaya wasn’t in town due to work and they weren’t sure when she could get back.

Tooru sighed. Sooner or later, he would have to come clean with his mother about Chihaya. He winced as he imagined her disappointed face before glancing at the cat wall clock (Kuroo bought it as a housewarming gift when he and Chihaya moved in together).

It was already one in the morning.

Tooru, strangely, didn’t feel tired. He remembered crashing during the first week back, too exhausted from the jetlag experienced. He supposed his body was used to being awake at this time. _“Gotta reset my body clock,”_ he thought absently, walking into the kitchen to place his mug in the sink.

His phone rang.

Tooru jolted in surprise at the beginning chimes of a default ring tone. He hurried to the living room where his phone vibrated against the coffee table and picked it up. His mother was calling him. A sense of dread and panic overcame him as he accepted the call. Could something have happened?

“Hello, okaasan?” he asked tentatively. There was an exchange of hurried words from the other end of the line before his mother’s voice crackled loud and clear by his ear.

“Hello, Tooru dear? Did I wake you?” she asked and Tooru could hear how frazzled she sounded. Worry gripped him.

“No, I was awake still… What happened?” he asked and his mother began rambling.

“Tooru, I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t give your address –But it sounded so urgent, I never heard him so panicked—“

“Hang on, okaasan. Who?” Eyebrows furrowed, Tooru tried to make sense of what she was saying. Just then, the doorbell rang. He stared at the door, torn between confusion and irritation, wondering who was at his door at one in the morning.

“—It was an emergency. The poor dear said he didn’t have anywhere else to go—and I know you were close—“

The doorbell rang again.

“Hang on. There’s someone at the door,” Tooru tried cutting his mother’s rambling as he walked towards the door. His mother didn’t seemed to be hearing him.

“—wasn’t in speaking terms with his parents right now—Told him you had gotten back from your game and you’re in Tokyo. He should be there anytime soon—“

Tooru paused, his hand hovering at the doorknob as he let his mother’s words sink in. “Okaasan, who are you _talking_ about?” he asked louder and his mother paused, sucking in a deep breath. The doorbell rang again, this time with an urgent rap to the door.

Annoyed, and a little worried his neighbours would complain about the racket at his apartment, Tooru yanked his door open just as his mother replied.

“Hajime-kun, dear.”

Tooru froze.

“…Oikawa.”

He saw a familiar pair of green eyes, wide with concern, spiky black hair that was styled differently from before, and thin pouting lips that were now pulled to a worried frown. He knew this face well enough.

“Iwa-chan,” he breathed out.

There were dark circles under the other man’s eyes, and the beginnings of fine lines etching into his forehead and the corners of his eyes, but it was definitely the Iwaizumi Hajime Tooru remembered. His hair was wet from the rain, flopping slightly on top of his head instead of standing like it usually does and his eyes were almost black under the dim light of the hallway.

His mother was still talking to him on the phone but Tooru tuned her out as he continued to gape at Iwaizumi.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said, his faced pinched in distress as he shifted the big bundle of clothes he was holding. It took Tooru a few seconds and a double-take to realise that it was not a pile of clothes.

He took a step back to see the entirety of Iwaizumi drenched by the rain. The bundle in his arms shifted and Tooru saw a tuft of dark brown hair peeking from underneath the hoodie. A large overnight bag hung off of a shoulder. Iwaizumi shifted again and the bundle gave a soft whimper. Tooru snapped his head up to stare at Iwaizumi again.

“Okaasan, I’ll call you in the morning," He cut her off the ramble and ended the call before his mother to say another word. His eyes never left Iwaizumi.

“What happened?” The words left his lips before Tooru could fully gather himself. Iwaizumi grimaced and Tooru noticed how tired he looked, shivering slightly under the wet clothes. The bundle whimpered again and Iwaizumi lifted a hand to pat its head gently, making soft shushing noises.

“Sorry,” Iwaizumi said lowly, the distressed expression never leaving his face. “I asked your mother for your address, I wasn’t sure if you’re back from your tournament overseas, but I don’t know anyone else in this area…”

There was a clap of thunder from outside and Tooru shook himself off the shock at Iwaizumi’s sudden appearance at his doorstep. Quickly, he yanked the bag off his friend’s shoulder and pushed him into the apartment.

“Get in,” he said, steering Iwaizumi into the house, past the entrance, where he was struggling to remove his shoes and the child’s.

“Sorry—we’re pretty drenched—“

“And you’re going to get a cold if you don’t get out of those clothes as soon as possible,” Tooru interrupted him, steering them into the bathroom, dumping his overnight bag in it as well. “Use whatever you need, I’ll grab some towels.”

He slammed the bathroom door in Iwaizumi’s startled face before heading back to his bedroom, pulling out drawers to look for the spare towels he (and Chihaya) usually kept for guests. The shower was already running by the time he reached the door.

“Iwa-chan, I’m leaving the towels by the door,” he called out and heard his friend’s grunt in response before leaving the bathroom right away. He stood in his living room for a moment as his brain tried to catch up with the events that had happened in the last five minutes.

There was a reason for why Tooru barely spent time with Hanamaki and Matsukawa anymore, opting instead to go drinking with Sugawara or putting in extra hours in the gym, despite Ushijima’s nagging, whenever he returned to Japan. Shortly after his best friend’s wedding, Tooru had sold his apartment at the heart of Tokyo, booked a flight to Argentina and accepted the offer to play for CA San Juan. After that, he returned to Japan between volleyball seasons, indulging in hook-ups and short relationships until he had met Chihaya. His two friends seemed to have caught the message, and started inviting him for drinks whenever Iwaizumi couldn’t make it.

It has been eight years since he last saw his best friend.

Eight years of radio silence, all because of him.

Was it pride or fear that made Tooru distance himself from Iwaizumi, he didn’t know – couldn’t remember, actually, but at this moment he wished he hadn’t shut himself out from all things Iwaizumi related. Because the eight years spent without his best friend felt like a black hole deep within, as if he had lost a part of himself when he lost his connection with the other man.

The sound of the shower being cut off brought Tooru out of his thoughts. He had just managed to school his expression when the bathroom door opened and Iwaizumi came into the living room, carrying the child in his arms. Now that the coat and hoodie was no longer hiding the child, Tooru could see that it was a young boy, clinging onto Iwaizumi tightly, his face buried in his father’s shoulder. The hair at the back of his head was dark brown, close to that of dark chocolate and even after a shower, he could see stubborn curls forming at the top of his head. Clearing his throat, Tooru tore his eyes from the child to face Iwaizumi, who was looking uncomfortable standing in the living room. He could see him struggling internally, trying to put his thoughts into words and Tooru suddenly felt he didn’t want to listen at that moment.

“You should head to bed, Iwa-chan,” Tooru said before Iwaizumi could open his mouth. He saw his friend hesitate for a moment but a shift in position of the child in his arms seemed to make him think twice. Tooru watched as Iwaizumi gave a little shake of his head as if to brace himself, before making eye contact with Tooru.

“Oikawa,” he began, “… thank you.”

Tooru waved a hand in the air nonchalantly, as if it was no big deal. He walked towards his friend and started steering him to his bedroom. “Take the bed for tonight. I threw out the old guest futon I had,” he said.

“I can’t—! The couch’s fine,” Iwaizumi struggled weakly but Tooru was having none of that.

“Iwa-chan,” he said in his most authoritative voice that even Iwaizumi used to know whenever he was serious. Tooru sighed as they entered the bedroom. “Take the bed, it’s large enough for you and your son. We’ll talk tomorrow.”

At that, Iwaizumi seemed to have deflated. He caught Tooru’s eye one last time before nodding. “Thanks again,” he mumbled before he turned to the bed and laid the boy gently on the mattress. Tooru watched as the boy whined softly, clutching tightly at the sleeves of Iwaizumi’s shirt before relaxing once his father whispered comforting words to him.

“Good night,” he said and after Iwaizumi nodded in return, Tooru headed out to the living room in an attempt to get some shut eye amidst the whole ordeal.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter went through multiple revisions until I'm satisfied with it. Enjoy!

_Tooru clutched onto the back of his mother’s skirt, hiding his face in the soft chiffon fabric. He ignored her sweet voice coaxing him to look up, instead pressing himself further to his mother’s legs, hoping he could hide from the gaze of those in front of him. He heard his mother sigh._

_“Really, Tooru,” she chided before she turned to face their new neighbour. “Sorry about that, Iwaizumi-san, he’s usually not this shy—“_

_“It’s alright,” Tooru heard the other woman’s voice, slightly deeper than his mother’s airy tone, giggling slightly. “Hajime here doesn’t really do well with new people as well, he’d usually clam up.”_

_It was then Tooru, in a sudden bout of curiosity, decided to peek from behind his mother. Standing in front of them was a woman with dark, shoulder-length hair and a friendly smile. Her hands were resting on the shoulders of the boy in front of her. He was tanned, Tooru noted, a shade or two darker than himself. His black hair stuck up in all directions and Tooru wanted to giggle at that. But what stuck him was his eyes—small, but the vibrant green gleamed in the bright sun. They locked gazes and the boy gave Tooru a small, shy smile._

_“Hello,” he said, his voice small and Tooru couldn’t help but to reciprocate. Detaching himself from his mother’s legs, he stuck a hand out slowly, giving his own shy smile at the boy._

_“Hello,” he said, and dimly he could hear his mother soft chuckle behind him. “I’m Tooru.”_

_The boy eyed his hand for a second before taking it in his own. “…Hajime.”_

.

Tooru woke up with a start.

He laid on his back, blinking furiously at the darkened ceiling, wondering what had caused him to wake up. He shuffled, turning to his side—

And almost let out a shrill scream.

But then the events from a few hours back came back to him and Tooru shot up from the couch, staring at the figure of a child standing still next to him. It was dark still, but Tooru could make out the pale face, eyes wide as he watched Tooru.

“Um, I’m sorry,” the child whispered, voice high, and Tooru noticed then that he was fidgeting in place, hands clutching the front of his shorts. “I-I-… Papa didn’t wake up and I have to—“

Tooru didn’t need to hear the rest. Remembering his experiences when dealing with a young Takeru, he threw off his blanket and stood. The child cowered slightly at his height but followed him a few steps behind as Tooru led him to the bathroom. He switched the light on and immediately the bathroom and the landing outside was illuminated. In that instance, he was finally able to take in the features of the child.

A small, soft, round face, with a button nose, and big, brown eyes that was blinking furiously to get used to the light. His dark brown hair came down in waves, his fringe hung heavy in his face, partially blocking his eyes and teasing the nape of his neck. His arms and legs were long and thin, his body hidden under the baggy dark green tee-shirt and shorts. He didn’t look much like Iwaizumi, but Tooru guessed he probably looked more like his mother.

“Let me know when you’re done,” Tooru said and the child nodded, stepping into the bathroom and shutting the door in a split second. Once he was bathed by the darkness of the hallway, Tooru let out a heavy sigh and rubbed the back of his neck. He went back to the living and fumbled around the sofa, groping blindly until his hands wrapped around the metallic casing of his phone. He checked the time.

5:20 AM.

Well, no point trying to go back to sleep at this time. Tooru strode over to the window and drew open the curtains, before walking back and flicking the lights on, bathing the room in bright fluorescent lamp. He should might as well get started on breakfast. Just as he walked towards the kitchen, he heard the toilet flush from behind the bathroom door, followed by a short moment of the tap being turned on, and then the click of a door unlocked. The door opened just barely, and Tooru spied a wide, brown eye watching him from the gap.

“Erm,” he began, pushing the door wider before slipping out of the bathroom. “I’m done.”

Tooru nodded in acknowledgment. “Need anything else?”

The boy shook his head frantically. “N-No need! I should wake Papa—“

A loud grumble suddenly cut through his sentence and Tooru watched in amusement as the boy’s face pinked as he clutched tiny hands on his stomach. Chuckling lightly, Tooru motioned for the boy to come to him.

“I’m about to make breakfast,” he said and watched the boy perked up at the promise of food. “Do you want to come sit in the kitchen and wait?”

The boy gave a quick nod, cheeks still pink, but he followed Tooru quietly to the kitchen, folding his legs neatly under him as he sat at the table, watching the older man politely. Tooru couldn’t help the small smile from appearing on his face as he looked into the fridge for some ingredients. “I can make some eggs, rice, and miso soup for breakfast. Is that okay?” he asked.

“Y-yes!”

So earnest the boy was, with bright, wide eyes staring at Tooru with lesser reservation than before that the man thought was adorable.

“What’s your name?” Tooru asked him.

The boy smiled shyly, tugging gently on his hair over his eyes. “Ichigo,” he mumbled, and Tooru saw his cheeks reddened. “It sounds like a girl’s name, so I want people to call me Ichi.”

Tooru hummed as he brought out the pots and pans. “Nothing wrong with a great-sounding name, Ichi-chan. I’m Oikawa Tooru,” he said, flashing a smile to the boy. “How old are you?”

“Six.”

“So big already,” Tooru said, laughing politely while Ichi ducked his head, a small smile on his face. “We’ll need to make lots of food to help you grow even bigger!”

So Iwaizumi has had more than one child, Tooru’s mind supplied unhelpfully, remembering the baby bump of his wife on the day of the wedding eight years back. Before he could do anything else with that snippet of information, Ichi spoke up.

“You look familiar, Mister,” he said, his eyes fixed on Tooru as he began cooking breakfast.

Surprised, Tooru turned to look at the boy. “Is that so?”

Ichi nodded, but didn’t elaborate. Tooru paused, blinking at the innocent expression on the boy’s face, before shrugging it away as he lit up the stove to cook the eggs. Just then, the bedroom door opened and footsteps could be heard outside the kitchen.

“Ichigo?” Iwaizumi’s voice was soft and rough from sleep still, and Tooru looked up just in time to see him enter the kitchen, squinting in the bright light of the room. Ichi pushed off the chair, and walked to his father, clutching the legs of his pants tightly.

“Papa,” the boy whispered as Iwaizumi bent down, pulling the boy up from his armpits and settling him on his hips. Ichi wrapped his arms around his neck tightly, resting his head on Iwaizumi’s collarbone as Iwaizumi began rocking him gently, eyes landing on Tooru who had watched the whole scene with mild interest.

Tooru shrugged. “He woke me up, needing to use the bathroom,” he explained and the crease between Iwaizumi’s eyebrows let up slightly as he sighed heavily.

“Sorry about that.”

Tooru waved him off. “It’s not a big deal,” he said dismissively, rolling the eggs in the pan. “I’m just about done with making breakfast, so have a seat.”

Iwaizumi shook his head minutely, taking a step forward. “Let me help.”

Again, Tooru waved him off. “Sit,” he said, pointing unseeingly to the dining table as his eyes remained fixed on the cooking eggs. There was a second of silence before a resigned sigh escaped Iwaizumi’s lips as he shuffled to the dining table, settling Ichi on his lap gently, rubbing soothing circles on his back. Tooru carried on cooking, no one in the kitchen spoke amidst the crackling of the fire and sizzling of the oil until Tooru unloaded the eggs onto a plate, satisfied with the way they turned out. There was a scraping of chair on wood and he turned to find Iwaizumi striding over to one of the cupboards.

“I’ll help you set the table,” he mumbled, opening the cupboard above the counter where the plates and bowl were correctly placed. Tooru pursed his lips, but didn’t try to refuse his help as he took the bowls offered to him, loading rice onto them and scooping the miso soup from the pot. The two men began placing the plates on the table and Tooru spied Ichi watching them with wide eyes and red cheeks and couldn’t help but smile at the innocent reaction the boy had. They settled at the table shortly after and after a short and soft _“itadakimasu”,_ the three of them began eating.

Ichi scooped the rice slowly with his chopsticks, his hands still inexperienced against the men’s but he was determined to eat on his own, slowly bringing it to his lips and chewing it. Instantly, his expression brightened as he began digging around the side dishes. Tooru hid a smile behind his own bowl, slightly pleased that his usual cooking was being enjoyed so thoroughly. He saw Iwaizumi’s lips thinned to a slight frown at his son’s enthusiasm.

“Slow down, Ichigo,” he muttered gently, ruffling the boy’s tousled hair, who nodded, chewing on a piece of egg slowly, and blinking up at his father. Tooru’s chest did a little squeeze at the gleam in the boy’s brown eyes as he watched Iwaizumi eat for a while before scooping up more rice clumsily from his bowl.

“How’s the food, Ichi-chan?” Tooru asked, smiling as the boy’s attention snapped to him. Ichi pinked slightly and averted his eyes, though the small smile on his face remained. Iwaizumi gave him a slight nudge and flashed a small smile to his son. The action seemed to have calmed the boy down whose smile widened slightly as he looked back at Tooru shyly.

“It is delicious, thank you Mister,” he said softly and Tooru’s smile widened.

“I’m glad to hear that.”

They settled back into a comfortable silence, broken by the clinks of china against the table and Iwaizumi’s soft mumblings to his son. Tooru took the scene in front of him with interest.

He had known Iwaizumi since they were children—so he knew how his best friend was around different kinds of people. Seeing a fatherly side of him was something new, yet Tooru could see how comfortable Iwaizumi was being a father; stern yet encouraging.

After breakfast, Iwaizumi carried the now sleepy Ichi back to bed while Tooru began clearing the table. He had just turned the tap on to wash the dishes when his friend returned to the kitchen and stood by him.

“Let me help,” Iwaizumi said and Tooru almost shook his head before he was cut off. “It’s the least I could do, after you let me stay at such short notice.”

Tooru sighed, relenting at last. “Fine, Iwa-chan,” he said, passing him a clean plate to wipe.

Iwaizumi flashed him a small smile as he wiped the plate clean, and settled it neatly on the dish rack. Tooru bit his bottom lip for a moment as curiosity got to him.

“Does Ichi-chan need to go to school later?”

Iwaizumi shook his head. “I’m calling the school later to let them know he’s taking a few days off.”

“I see.”

A moment of silence blanketed over them before Iwaizumi let out a heavy sigh.

“Sorry,” he muttered, taking the final plate from Tooru to wipe. “You must have so many questions right now.”

Tooru didn’t say otherwise because he _did_ have questions, although he didn’t know where to start. But the pinch of skin between his friend’s furrowed brows and the frown tugging at his lips decided the question for him.

“Iwa-chan,”he began tentatively and Iwaizumi turned to face him. “What happened?”

Something painful flitted past his expression before he let out another sigh. “Kaede and I… We had a fight,” he muttered, and it took Tooru a second to realise that Kaede was his wife. “A big one. And I don’t think we can go back being together after this.”

Something clenched in Tooru’s chest at the expression on Iwaizumi’s face. “Why?” he asked softly, and a second afterwards, regretted his intrusive question as he saw Iwaizumi’s closed off expression before his friend turned away from him.

“Sorry, Oikawa,” he sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to talk about it yet.”

Tooru nodded in understanding as he turned the tap off and wiped his hands dry. “Okay, Iwa-chan. But what are you going to do now?”

Another weary sigh escaped his friend’s lips as he ran a hand down his face. “I need to grab some more clothes for us; Ichi’s uniform especially. And a place for us to stay.”

“Why not stay here?”

The words tumbled out before Tooru had put much thought into it. He could see the surprise that he felt reflected in Iwaizumi’s eyes as he turned to face Tooru once again.

“Come—live with you?” he repeated before shaking his head. “I can’t intrude any longer.”

Tooru shook his own head before bringing a hand to Iwaizumi’s shoulder. “Iwa-chan,” he said, squeezing his shoulder reassuringly. “You’re my best friend. You won’t be intruding, let me help.”

_Best friend. What kind of friend would cut off contact for eight years?_ A voice in his head supplied before Tooru squashed it away.

Iwaizumi seemed torn at the offer and Tooru couldn’t have him look that way. “You can pay rent here,” he supplied weakly, giving him a cheeky smile and that seemed to have relaxed Iwaizumi. He brought his own hand to cover Tooru’s on his shoulder still, a smile of relief spreading on his face.

“Thanks, Oikawa,” he muttered. “I’ll accept your offer.”

Tooru’s smile widened at that. “I’m glad,” he said, as he ignored the flutter in his chest.

.

“I’m glad Hajime-kun is safe,” Tooru’s mother sighed over the phone. “It was the first time I’ve heard him sound so panicked. You know how the boy’s like, Tooru—he’ll keep everything inside himself until it’s become too much…”

Tooru hummed in response, running a hand through his hair. It was almost noon and Iwaizumi had left to fetch more clothes from his home. He had mentioned that he took an urgent leave from work today in order to settle down and Tooru has agreed to look after his son for a while. Said boy was still asleep in his room, and Tooru decided to let him be—he’ll wake when he’s hungry.

“It’s reassuring that he’s going to be staying with you for the moment, Tooru,” his mother continued, “I worry about him sometimes.”

“Yeah,” Tooru sighed before a thought from the night before came back to him. “Hey, okaasan, why isn’t he speaking with his parents?”

“He never said and I didn’t ask,” she replied, sighing wearily into the line that the line crackled slightly. “And you know how private Iwaizumi-san can be, so I didn’t push.”

“I see,” Tooru said non-committedly just as the door to his bedroom opened with a creak. He turned from his position on the sofa to find a pair of brown eyes peeking at him. “Okaasan, I got to go. Ichi-chan just woke up.”

“Oh, be a dear and give him a hug from me,” his mom cooed and Tooru couldn’t help but smile at her fondness; he knew she will love Ichigo if she were to meet him. “I’m just glad that Chihaya is okay with all this; you don’t find a girl like that every day.

At the sound of his ex-girlfriend’s name, Tooru paused. “About Chihaya..,” he began, then decided against it. One problem at a time. “Never mind, I’ll talk to you next time.”

“Bye, Tooru.”

Tooru cut the line and stood, smiling at the boy who had shuffled into the living room shyly. “Morning,” he said cheerfully, earning a small smile from the boy. “Hungry?”

Ichi nodded, eyes wide and Tooru couldn’t help but give the boy a little pat on the head before he headed to the kitchen pulling out bowls and plates. He heard the slight pitter-patter of smaller feet on the tiles before the scrap of the chair against the floor as the boy settled at the dining table, looking more comfortable than he did in the morning.

“Where’s Papa?” he asked innocently.

“Papa went to get some things but he will be back soon,” Tooru replied, spooning in enough rice for the both of them and setting them on the table. “You and your Papa will be staying with me for a while. I’ll prepare the guest bedroom later.”

“Oh,” Ichi replied, looking slightly downcast. “How long?”

“I don’t know,” Tooru replied honestly, sighing. “It depends if your mum and dad can patch things up.”

At the mention of his mother, the small smile on the boy’s lips disappeared entirely and he cast his eyes onto his lap. “Oh,” he said again, shakily this time.

Tooru tilted his head at the boy’s lukewarm response but didn’t say anything as the two started digging into their lunch. They ate in relative silence, with the occasional clinks of utensils against ceramic. Then, just as Tooru was about to finish off his rice, Ichi spoke.

“Papa… was really angry.”

“Eh?” Stunned, Tooru looked up to stare at the boy, whose have started glistening. Before he could say anything, the doorbell rang, startling the two of them.

Tooru quickly stood up and walked towards the door while Ichi rubbed at his face, ridding it of unshed tears. Iwaizumi was back, rolling a large luggage behind him and a backpack.

“Welcome back, Iwa-chan,” Tooru greeted. Iwaizumi looked taken aback by the greeting, as if he hadn’t expected it, but responded just the same.

“I’m back.”

“Papa!”

The two men at the hallway turned to see Ichi’s face poking out from the kitchen, eyes bright at the sight of his father. Instantly Tooru could see the tension in Iwaizumi’s shoulders disappear as he quickly toed off his shoes and crouched while the boy ran into his arms.

“I’m back, Ichigo,” he said and Tooru couldn’t help the warm feeling from bubbling in his chest at the sight of the two. He smiled and clapped his hands together.

“Iwa-chan, have you had lunch? Ichi-chan and I are eating right now!”

“Yes!” Ichi chirped, pulling back to look at Iwaizumi with bright eyes, all traces of tears gone. “Mister’s food is delicious!”

Iwaizumi huffed, and gently tapped the boy on the nose. “Now Ichigo, you need to address him properly. It’s Oikawa-san,” he scolded, earning him a sheepish look from Ichi who ducked his face under his thick bangs and nodded.

“Oikawa-san.”

The way his name sounded in Ichi’s high voice made Tooru’s smile wider and he couldn’t help but bring a hand out to gently ruffle his hair. “I’m glad you enjoy my cooking, Ichi-chan! Come, Iwa-chan, let’s eat!”

Iwaizumi nodded, shrugging his bag pack off his shoulders before following them to the kitchen.

The silence from before was now filled with small chatter and a little bit of laughter.

.

“Oikawa.”

Tooru looked up from his phone to find Iwaizumi standing behind the sofa, rubbing his face tiredly. It was already nighttime, and Tooru was unwinding from the day in the living room, updating his social media and catching up with old friends.

“Iwa-chan,” he greeted, moving to put his feet down from the sofa and scooting so that Iwaizumi had space to sit. Iwaizumi moved and slumped heavily into the cushions, sighing slightly. “Is Ichi-chan asleep?”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi mumbled from under his palm, “He knocked out the moment I put him down the futon.”

Tooru had managed to order a new guest futon for Iwaizumi and Ichigo, which arrived a few hours earlier. He remembered seeing the gratitude in his best friend’s face as they lay the futon in the guest bedroom.

“That’s good to hear,” Tooru hummed, stowing his phone away before turning to study the profile of the other man. Under the artificial lights of the living room, he could see the fine wrinkles around his best friend’s eyes and the corners of his face. He looked no different than he did when they were twenty-one, just older and _tired._ Iwaizumi had finally removed his hand from his face and turned to look at Tooru, whose heart suddenly thumped loudly against his ribcage when he locked gazes with him.

Just like Tooru had done, the other man’s eyes roamed all over Tooru’s face, as if trying to commit it to memory from the last time they’ve seen each other. Tooru started to grow self-conscious under his gaze and cleared his throat, questions in his mind tumbling out of his mouth quickly.

“What happened, Iwa-chan?” he asked the same question he did in the morning, curiosity and concern colouring his tone. After all, it was not an everyday occurrence to find your best friend whom you haven’t spoken to in eight years at your doorstep, carrying his six-year-old child at one in the morning.

Iwaizumi closed his eyes for a moment, letting out a long sigh, before he leaned his head back and gazed at the ceiling.

“Kaede and I had a fight,” he began, his voice soft, and Tooru inched closer to hear. “It’s not uncommon for us to fight but… this one was different.”

His eyes flickered to Tooru for a moment. “After getting married, it’s like we couldn’t agree about anything anymore. She was against my job, I was against her quitting hers. Heck, we couldn’t even agree on what we wanted to eat for dinner.”

“You know, she was even against us visiting my parents in Miyagi,” Iwaizumi added heavily, eyes on his hands that were clenched into fists. “I haven’t seen or spoken to them in _years._ Kaede’s parents are overseas but even then only they were allowed to come visit us during the holidays.”

Dislike started crawling at the back of Tooru’s throat towards his best friend’s wife. That would explain why Tooru’s mother mentioned that they were not on speaking terms, Tooru’s mind supplied as he remained silent beside Iwaizumi, listening. Iwaizumi was an only child; he could only imagine how his parents must feel at the absence of their only child after marriage. He thought about his own mother, whom he had spoken with earlier, and made a mental note to see her sometime during the summer.

There was a moment’s silence and Iwaizumi sniffled. “When we got Ichigo, I thought it was a chance for us to start afresh y’know? He was the perfect boy. He never complained about anything at all. I was taken to him immediately but Kaede… not so much.”

Something seemed weird about how Iwaizumi spoke about his son but before Tooru could ask, Iwaizumi let out a growl, his gaze now heated on his own fists.

“But the fights continued,” there was weariness in Iwaizumi’s voice. “We fought everyday over the smallest thing. But I thought to myself that Kaede probably needed more time to adjust to having him around.”

“Two nights ago I came home earlier than usual,” Iwaizumi continued slowly. “The first thing I heard was shouting from the kitchen. And… I found her _screaming_ at Ichigo for spilling water on the table. You should have heard her.”

“Ichigo didn’t say anything. He didn’t even _cry._ But then..,” The man took a deep breath, “Kaede told him how much she hated him around, and wished he was never born, and I’ve had enough.”

Iwaizumi then shifted, bringing his body forward, elbows on his knees as he stared at his feet. “It was the worst fight we’ve had. She blamed me for putting her in this situation. She blamed me for bringing Ichigo to our lives. She said the only reason I took in Ichigo was because—“

He stopped, and Tooru tilted his head in confusion, but Iwaizumi didn’t continue. “Iwa-chan?”

Iwaizumi jolted, as if he had forgotten Tooru was beside him and turned to look at the other man. “Well, I couldn’t stay after hearing what she had to say. I packed our bags and left with Ichigo. I couldn’t ask Hanamaki if I could stay with him since he’s renting his apartment with two other people, and Matsukawa’s in Miyagi.” He then chuckled humourlessly. “Heck, I didn’t even know if you were even in Tokyo, so I called your mum. I’m glad I did though.”

He gave Tooru a small smile. “Thanks, Oikawa.”

Tooru could only gape at his friend, before he ducked his head, shame overcoming him in waves. He didn’t deserve gratitude from Iwaizumi, because what kind of friend – best friend – disappear for years, not knowing what was happening all these years. “I’m sorry, Iwa-chan..,” he whispered. _I’m sorry for not being there for you._

A warm hand reached out to his hair and Tooru felt Iwaizumi card through his locks, ruffling it slightly before he removed his hand. “You’re here now,” he said simply, and there was no anger in his voice, no questions about their lost years and Tooru could feel tears prickling at the corners of his eyes. He looked up to see Iwaizumi still smiling at him. Upon seeing the tears in his eyes, Iwaizumi let out a chuckle, ruffling Tooru’s hair again.

“Oi, you don’t have to cry. Remember what an ugly crier you are.”

_”Shut up, Iwa-chan!”_

Iwaizumi laughed and Tooru couldn’t help the smile stretching on his face. “Iwa-chan,” he began, once the laughter died down. “I’m sorry for disappearing for so long. But I’m here to help you now.”

“You’ve done enough, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said. “Giving us a place to stay on such short notice. We’ll get out of your hair once I find a suitable apartment for Ichigo and me.”

“Stay here.”

The words left Tooru’s lips before he could process them. There was silence in the air as Iwaizumi looked at Tooru, unable to hide the surprise in his face. Tooru quickly cleared his throat. “I-I mean, stay for a while, Iwa-chan. I wasn’t joking about my offer earlier. I don’t want you to feel like you need to get out of here as soon as possible. Besides, it will be hard for Ichi-chan to adjust if you guys move around too much.”

He was rambling, but it seemed like Iwaizumi didn’t mind. His shoulders relaxed and relief flooded his face. “Thanks, Oikawa,” he said and Tooru stopped talking.

“Anytime, Iwa-chan,” he sighed, bringing both his legs up the couch and folding it under him. Iwaizumi’s eyes followed the movement.

“How’s the knee?” he asked, his hand moving as if to reach out before he realised what he was about to do and retracted it. Tooru half-wished he hadn’t.

“Did you watch the match?”

“I did, and I felt my heart stopped when you landed badly. Even when you’re on the other side of the planet, you still stress me out, Shittykawa.”

The nickname came out naturally and Tooru couldn’t help the giggle that escaped his lips. “Well, I’m not allowed to practice until it gets better. In the meantime, I’ve booked a physio appointment for next week.”

Iwaizumi nodded, smiling slightly, “That good,” he muttered. “I’m glad you’re taking care of yourself.”

Tooru returned the smile easily. “Yeah, it’s not like I have Iwa-chan with me to take care of me like a mom.” Iwaizumi snorted.

“How long are you not allowed to train?” he asked, settling back into the couch, now more relaxed than he was before.

“The whole off-season, according to my coach. But I might start conditioning training before I fly back to Argentina.”

Iwaizumi pursed his lips at this. He was leaning his head on the sofa, and turned his whole body fully to look at Tooru. “When,” he hesitated for a moment, licking his lips. “When are you going back?”

“Probably at the end of summer.”

Before Iwaizumi could ask further, the shrill ringtone from Tooru’s phone cut into the air, startling the two of them.

Tooru glanced at the caller ID. “Sorry, Iwa-chan, I got to take this.”

Iwaizumi nodded and got off the couch, “I’m going to bed now. Goodnight, Oikawa.”

“Night, Iwa-chan,” Tooru called out to Iwaizumi’s retreating back before answering his phone.


End file.
